


The Archaeologist and The Almost Not Skeletons

by Snowboots



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Characters to be added as they are introduced, F/F, F/M, Female Reader, Instead of only skeletons a bunch of AU characters are here, Plot to be revealed over time don't worry, Reader-Insert, SS&LL inspired, Witch! Frisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-04-17 23:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14200008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowboots/pseuds/Snowboots
Summary: You're an adult with a degree that isn't getting you anywhere. Your life is shitty, you have no support, and you're pretty sure that you'll be out on the streets real soon. So, why are all of these weird monsters suddenly choosing to become apart of your life? And why do they keep insisting that they don't belong here? And why are they... So nice?





	1. The Start

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Skeleton Squatters and the Landlady](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9816140) by [Tyrant_Tortoise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrant_Tortoise/pseuds/Tyrant_Tortoise). 



> Hi! I haven't written fanfiction in a long time so I'm pretty excited to get in on this multiple AU SS&LL trend. But! As the description says, there's a twist with this one! There aren't as many skeletons. In fact, there's only one. Also, there's more UT characters in this, but they're all from AUs. Spooky.
> 
> In case you're not really that interested, most of the AUs I'm using are lacking in FF. So, there might not be any popular ones in here! I thought it would be way more exciting to use the unusual ones that you don't see that often. Also, there are gonna be a few that are from AUs that don't even exist, but I want them to. Cool? Cool.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

3,540. That's what your balance says. _Welp, it's better than I expected._ You think. But you know you're being optomistic. Deep down, another voice says, _it's not going to last._

This wasn't the first time you'd been without a job in the past two years. That didn't make it any easier to deal with, though. Almost as soon as you felt safe enough to spend a little extra, maybe eat out at a fancy restaurant or something, boom. You'd be fired, or the shop you worked at wasn't making enough money and had gone bankrupt. There was always _something_. You should have listened when you heard that your major was a bad choice. But it was the only thing that made you happy. It hurt.

You logged out of your bank account and decided that it wasn't a good idea to keep thinking about that. You'll find a job before your savings run out, you won't have to worry about being homeless since you had no one else to rel-

Oops. You're doing it again.

You stand up and shut off your computer. You check your wallet. 40 bucks. That's enough for a movie, right? Yeah, you'll go watch something. You'd already spent most of the day applying wherever you could. You still had 3k in your bank. You needed a quick break.

And so off you went, to see a movie. It was kind of a long walk, but you didn't mind. Walking is free. It's also exercise, and the fresh air makes you feel a little better.

When you get to the theatre, you look to see which movie is the cheapest. Sure, you were treating yourself, but that didn't mean you were just going to spend everything you had! Finding Nemo 3 was on sale. Convienent! But you also needed food. Popcorn and a soda. With your ticket and snacks, you were suddenly out 22 bucks. Ouch. Still, you smiled and pretended that it was okay and made your way to the room that's entrance read a big, "Finding Nemo 3".

You glanced into the theatre. Then, you did a double take.

It's... Empty? In the middle of the day?

Sweet.

Your mood pulls a complete 180 as you practically skip in, taking a seat in your favorite spot in the middle row. You toss your backpack into the seat left of you. It's not every day that you get a theatre all to yourself! Maybe all that money was worth it!

You took in a long gulp from your coke and leaned back into your seat.

Soon, the ads finished and the movie began to play. You looked around one last time. Yep. Still empty!

Okay, okay, calm down. This was probably the most exciting thing to happen to you all week, but still, calm down. Try not to think about all the things you can do in a movie theatre, alone. Like shoving popcorn grossly into your face, laughing obnoxiously loudly-

You are jolted back into reality when you, yes literally, are bounced up and down of your seat as someone sits next to you. What the fuck??? What the fuck?!?!?

"Wow! I love the movies! Especially this one!" 

You're now staring at the person, no, thing. Whatever the hell they are. You're literally hugging your knees. How did you not see them coming in?

The Massive Thing, or, monster, it's probably a monster, right? Fuck, you _don't like monsters._ It stares at you with its huge grin and terrifyingly large teeth. You don't answer. Massive, no, Monster Thing frowns at you for a second, but then perks right back up almost immediately.

Monster Thing leans in real close to your ear. _Jesus Christ._ You try to back away until you can't move back any further. The seat doesn't recline. "Do you know what movie this is?" they say. They're still speaking at normal volume. You're the only ones in this theatre, but still, maybe they don't understand the concept of whispering. You suddenly realize that you're secretly judging a monster for whispering while they're waiting for you to answer. Shit.

"Um," you say. The teeth showing in their huge smile is making it hard for you to not pee your pants. "Finding Nemo... 3?"

"Great!" Monster Thing says, sitting back in their seat and clasping their hands together as if they weren't just completely invading your personal space.

Without another word, you slowly move back into place too, putting your feet and legs back on the ground where they belong. Deep breaths. They're probably just here to watch the movie too, which you've just realized you've missed the first few minutes of. But that's okay!! Monster Thing didn't kill you. Yet. Can this guy really not read your body language?? You don't like monsters why the hell are they _still here_??

You think that for most of the movie, but Monster Thing surprisingly doesn't mess with you again. They ocassionally laugh super loudly, and at one point even realizing how loud they're being and kindly slap one of their hands over their mouth to muffle their laughter. Meanwhile, you try your hardest to get into the movie but, honestly, you're just not feeling it with this literal demon beside you. Wait, they haven't tried to hurt you, right? Maybe you're being a little too harsh. You try and stake off your slightly increasing terror by taking the chance to try and figure out if they even slightly resemble something you already know exists. 

First off, they're white with black eyes, a heartshaped nose and that huge smile. Okay, you decide on pillsbury dough man. He's white with black eyes, right? They're wearing a really tattered scarf, or, maybe it's a cape split in half?? You don't know. Either way, its red and so big that you wonder who makes scarves or capes that size. Maybe it's normal in whatever town Pillsbury came from. Next, you see that they're wearing a somewhat snazzy white jacket. You have to give them credit there, it reminds you of a scientist. The rest of their outfit, however, is terrible. Black racer pants with blue boots that are covered in fur at the top. Even a Pizza Hut dumpster would have better options for clothing.

Suddenly, you notice that a large gloved hand is slowly reaching for your crotch. Your terror immediately returns full on and you reach too, but for your pepperspray. Oh, wait, no, it's reaching for the popcorn bag settled in between your legs. You look up and realize that Monster Thing is staring right at you. He's not smiling, but honestly, he doesn't look all that threatening for once. More like an innocent puppy caught reaching for a cookie, or, in your case, popcorn. You stop reaching and look down again to see Monster Thing's other hand grabbing the arm reaching for your popcorn, and tugging it back. Then the first arm tries to reach for the popcorn again, but the the other one is still holding it back.

You look up again. "Um."

Monster Thing's hands are having an all out tug-of-war. "Sorry!" they say, clearly strained. "It's just that SOME OF US don't understand that it's RUDE to steal other people's food!!"

???????????????????????????????????????

Is this guy crazy??? Can monsters be crazy??

Still, slowly blinking at the absurdity, you reach into your box and hand Monster Thing a few pieces of your popcorn. "Here," you say. The hands stop fighting. You drop the pieces into Monster Thing's now open hands.

Monster Thing immediately relaxes. "Thank you!" he says jovially, throwing the pieces of popcorn skillfully into his mouth with both hands. You realize that this guy sounds a lot like that one from Megamind. So much that you can't help but think that he should have called you citizen right after he thanked you.

About 20 minutes later, the movie ends. You're honestly not even sure what it was about.

"That was a great movie!" Monster Thing practially yells as they stand, even though you're still right beside them. 

Then, for the second time, they invade your personal space by leaning back down to your ear. Even though you're not as scared this time, since they haven't tried to kill you yet, you still inch a bit away from them. "You know, I can never decide on which one to see! So I always just walk in and hope I like it!"

Monster Thing straightens back up. You don't say anything. "HA!" they say loudly, causing you to go from slowly sitting up to straight up jumping out of your seat. You barely manage to pull yourself together when you see Monster Thing already heading out of the theatre doors. But, just when you think they're gone, they lean back in and wave at you.

"BYE!" they shout, then disappear from view again.

You decide that you no longer enjoy empty movie theatres.

Though, despite that, you can't help but feel a little relieved. You haven't really talked to anyone in a while, what with your job applications going unnoticed, so it was kind of like you had made a scary friend? One who you'd probably never seen again and was also terrifying, but still.

It made you feel a little happier.

On the walk home, where you discovered that it was already getting dark, only one thing happened that was unusual. You passed by a small child wearing a huge witch hat, but oddly, no robes. Also, it's no where near Halloween, so you have no idea why they're in costume.

You wave at them, feeling a little brave and because, holy fuck, that's super cute. The child doesn't wave back. They look up at you with closed eyes and pull their hat farther down onto their face, walking faster. You immediately wish you hadn't waved. There goes your good mood.

You pretend that their response didn't bother you, and continue walking back home.


	2. The Kid Who Still Thinks It's Halloween, Apparently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I've been holding back on posting this so that I could make sure everything was right. I have a problem with needing to go back and change things, lol. Don't want that to happen here!
> 
> Also, if you see anything written like /this/ it's just a thought I forgot to italicize when moving the document here. Oops.

A few days later you find yourself meeting up with a boy for coffee. His name is Connor. You don't know much about him considering his Tinder profile was as bare as it gets- only that he's nice and said that he thought you were cute and that you both should meet up some time.

Of course, this entire situation is making you absolutely fucking nervous. You'd agreed at the time because you were still on the rush of someone approaching you and actually thinking you were cute!! And right after that almost theatre friend you'd made!! But you didn't put into consideration the fact that you are still a total loser right now. You hope this guy is too so that he doesn't feel as much disappointment as you're expecting him to.

Right as that thought finishes, the door rings and another man walks in. As luck would have it, it's Connor. You don't have any time to come up with some vague backstory before Connor is already sitting across from you.

"Hey," he says, smiling at you way too warmly.

"Hi," you say, because you're still very much panicking on the inside.

There's an awkward silence.

"So, coffee?" Connor offers. He starts to stand but you beat him to it.

"Nah," you tell him, trying to play off how quickly you just stood up. "I got it."

"Alright then." Still smiling, he pulls a 5 dollar bill out of his wallet and hands it to you. "Can you get me one of those medium frozen coffees? Just pick your favorite. I'll drink whatever."

"Okay," you say. Despite how quickly you wanted to cover up how poor you are, you're very relieved that he has offered to pay for his own coffee.

You come back with his coffee and yours, the cheapest one you could buy. He takes his from you and begins talking again as soon as you sit down.

"You know, I thought for sure you were going to be a catfish."

"What?"

"Those people that use fake photos!" he says. "Doesn't that happen a whole lot?"

"Uh, no?" you say, confused but admittedly finding this to be a little funny. "My pictures aren't even that great."

"This is my first time ever doing this," Connor admits, completely losing his former confident exterior. _Oh?_ "I didn't really know what to expect. I made my profile the day I talked to you. Oh, and," he quickly adds on. "Your pictures aren't that bad! You're still pretty cute in them."

There he goes again. Calling you cute. It's so nice that you grin a little too big at that.

"I'm a physical therapist," he continues. You struggle to keep your smile. He's not a loser, and now you're going to have to talk about your job too, aren't you?

You decide to keep talking about him for as long as possible. Gotta fake it till you make it. "Is that like where you train people and then find out if they have like anxiety or something while they run up some stairs?"

He snorts. "No, not really! You're a little close though, in some of that?" He takes a long sip of his coffee. "I'm the person you go to _after_ you get diagnosed. I'm supposed to help people learn healthier habits and improve and stuff."

"Oh." You're still nervous, but a little interested in what he's saying.

He keeps going. "I work with people after surgery too. It's really easy for someone who needs to exercise but doesn't to continue not exercising even when they need to do it most."

"So, that must be pretty expensive, huh?" you ask.

"Nope!" he says, taking another drink. "Most of the time I get people who have it covered in their insurance. Like medicaid, you know? I even have this one monster client right now that I'm working with."

 _A monster?_ You can't help but think of pillsbury dough man again. There really aren't any monsters that live in your area. It probably isn't him, but still. Wait, was he massive because of his size, or was he muscular without you realizing it? Huh.

You cut your train of thought short when you realize he's waiting for you to say something. "Isn't that pretty scary? I mean, we don't even know anything about them..."

"Right, but they do!" he says, almost excited at this point to even continue talking. "They have loads of information on their health. Everyone's having to go do workshops on it whenever we can." He takes yet another drink. "Oh, wait, sorry," he suddenly says, embarrassed. "I didn't even ask what you do."

You blink. "I, um." You had been so into what he was saying that you weren't expecting him to ask _you_ something. You feel terrible. "I've got a degree in archaeology..."

"Oh, dinosaurs!" he exclaims, surprising you. You're so relieved that you aren't even annoyed that that was the first idea he went for.

"Yeah," you agree, relaxing. "Dinosaurs, but also other stuff, like finding weird things you didn't even know existed. Did you hear about that one time they found a high-tech watch from the 1700s or something?"

"No, really?" he asks. "Did that actually happen?"

"Yeah," you find yourself smiling again. "Do you have internet? I can look it up and show you."

You spend the rest of your date finding weird things uncovered to show Connor, who doesn't seem to ever stop being so excited. At one point you notice that his cup is completely empty, but he doesn't once get up to refill it or suggest that it's time to leave. Before you know it, almost an hour and a half passes before he says that it's time for him to go. You only expected this to last 20 minutes max.

As soon as he leaves, however, you lose your nerve entirely. He's probably the nicest person you've met since you graduated from college. Way too good for you. You got incredibly lucky that he didn't ask if you were working, or what you do in your free time. What would you even answer with if he had asked? 

You probably would have taken the easy route out and left if he did. And after that, you know he would never ask for another date. Not with your brokeass.

You chug the rest of your coffee and decide that it's time to get back to looking for work.

 

The next day you are, again, at the coffee shop. Despite the memory of what happened yesterday, and your lingering disappointment, you still felt like coming here. You had spent most of today doing pretty much nothing aside from filling out applications, so, at around 3pm, you decided to go out for a bit. You were currently drinking another 1 dollar coffee and surprisingly, there isn't a whole lot going on in the shop today. You see the usual- people on their computers, some sleeping in their booths, and a little kid sitting at one of the counters. Wait, hold on. Is that a witch hat?

Yes, yes it is! It's the kid you saw the other day. Oddly enough, still with their hat and no robe getup. You can't help but stare at them. Thankfully, they don't notice.

You watch the kid get up and slowly approach a booth with an older man sitting at it. They tap the booth, and the man takes out his earphones and closes his laptop. You think the kid is saying something to him, but they're too far away for you to hear.

The man hands the kid a dollar, and the child returns to where they were originally sitting. _Weird._ You think, but you guess that the kid's parents didn't give them any money and that they were just trying to buy a frappe or something. Or maybe that was their dad? You look down at your coffee and sip before they catch you still staring.

Okay, you really tried not to stare again, but the kid's up again and you're curious. The man that was at the booth earlier had left, and there was a new girl in his place. So much for that guy being their dad. The kid approaches the new girl and (again!) they leave with money in their hands. You can't tell if they're smart and conning everyone, (which, honestly, you would try if you were a little cuter) or their frappe is super expensive.

You sit for another ten minutes before the girl gets her drink and leaves. Just as you thought, the kid immediately stands up. Then they head towards _you_. You quickly look down again and pretend you didn't see them.

You see a finger tap on your table. You look at the kid, who's smiling. If you hadn't just seen them in the act of scamming, you'd probably think it was adorable. Instead, it's unnerving.

"Can I have a dollar?" they ask.

"Um," you say. There's only so much money left. Why can't they just get money from their mom or something?

They fiddle with their hat. "My dad forgot to give me money for lunch," they tell you. "I only need a dollar."

You stare at them. "What are you doing?"

They stare back. "Trying to get lunch."

You don't believe them, so you don't say anything.

They blink, putting their hands back down at their side. "I'm hungry." Their voice has gone flat, no longer as chipper as it was before.

You narrow your eyes at them. "Are you really?" Okay, you do realize that sounds incredibly mean, but this kid might actually be conning you right now. 

"Look, you don't have to give me money if you don't want to. I'm hungry, that's all." They aren't smiling anymore. Shit. You immediately feel bad. 

"Fuck, wait. I don't have a lot of money I can just give away right now, but," you start. This is going to sound crazy. You know it is. You're panicking. "I have food at my house."

They stare at you.

"You can come with me, if you want..." You realize it sounds like you're going to kidnap them. If they really are trying to scam people though, they'll leave. But then again why would anyone want to come to a stranger's house-

"Okay."

Okay? Okay?!

"Okay?" you parrot.

"Yeah, I'll go with you. But I have to go home before it gets dark." For a second, they look just as confused as you do, but they quickly smile.

"Okay," you say again, not believing that your crazy idea was a success. "Let's go."

You pick up your coffee and head for the door. The kid follows. This might just be the weirdest thing you have ever done.

You step outside, but suddenly feel a little sheepish.

"I don't have a car," you say.

"That's fine." They straighten their hat again. "I'm used to walking."

You feel a little better and start towards your house. It's not far from the shop you were in.

It only takes about a 4 minute walk to get there. "There it is," you say, pointing at one of the tiny apartments lined up in front of you. "It's the one on the top over there, 17a."

You hear footsteps from a bit of a way behind you. You don't remember even seeing the kid fall behind. Oh, well, at least they didn't run away. You know you aren't going to kill them, but you still can't help but think for the millionth time about how creepy it is for a stranger to bring a random kid to their house to eat.

You suddenly notice that while you were thinking, the kid is already climbing upstairs to your apartment. "Wait, you still need the key!" you call out to them. They wait at the top for you to unlock the door before they step inside before you.

"Here we are," you say, closing the door behind you when you get in. 

"Nice," the kid says. It really isn't. You honestly haven't had anyone over in months. Pretty much all you have right now is a futon and coffee table, a bed, computer, and... that's about it, entertainment wise. Yes, sleep does count as entertainment.

"Thanks," you reply, and make your way to the kitchen. You hope canned ravioli will be alright.

You eventually return to the living room, bowl in hand, to see the child sitting quietly on your futon. You hand them their food and then sit next to them. They pick up their fork from the bowl and begin eating.

"So, how old are you?" you ask, because you don't really know what else to.

They swallow. "12." Wow. That's way older than you thought. They're really tiny for their age.

"You live here?"

"Yeah."

...

They're very quiet.

"You know, I saw you the other day. Do you live near the theatre?"

"Yup."

"And you're wearing the same clothes," you point out.

They start eating a little faster. It's jarring compared to their former pace. "Why can't I?"

"I was just saying I noticed, that's all," you try to reassure them. You feel bad for judging. You can't exactly lie and say you haven't done what they're doing before. Rewearing clothes saves a few cents on your water bill.

They're silent again, but don't slow their eating. You don't know what else to say until you notice something that forces you to start talking again. You hope some small talk will chill them out.

"Hey, you look a little like that one kid. Frisk? You know, the amb-." You're interrupted by the clang of a bowl on your coffee table. _Fuck!_ You upset them again, didn't you?

When you look, their smile has disappeared. The child pulls their hat down over their face. "I knew you recognized me. This was a bad idea."

"Wait, _what_?" You stand up as they do. You don't want them to leave. "I honestly have no idea who you are, kid. I don't know anything about you. I just brought you home because you said you were hungry and I have food right here." You gesture towards your kitchen.

"But what about yesterday? When you waved at me?" they demand. One of their hands is reaching for their pocket-

"You looked adorable. I wanted to say hi."

"Oh," they say. The hand returns to their side. "So, you're not gonna call CPS? Turn me in to the police?"

"Um, no?? Why the hell would I do that?"

Without another word, they sit back down and return to eating their ravioli.

You stay quiet for a while, again. You didn't expect feeding a kid one time would have so many up and downs. You're almost afraid to start prying again, to ask them why they're so nervous about you reporting them, but...

They mentioned CPS. They've been shady all day. You offered them help, didn't you? Something must be going on.

"Okay, promise you won't freak out, but, where's your family?"

They look at you, slurping loudly. "Dunno." They've gone right back to that flat tone they were using before you scared them.

Their response surprises you. You honestly thought they'd straight up walk out. Maybe you not calling anyone really made them relax. "Do you need help finding them?"

"Nope."

You tilt your head, trying to act casual. Inside, you're actually kind of freaking out even more. "Why not?"

"I don't need them. I'm a, what do you call it?"

"Homeless? A runaway?" you suggest. You hope you're wrong.

"Yeah, that." They wipe their mouth with their hand. "Runaway. You were going to say I look like the ambassador, right?"

"Uh, yeah." You wanted to ask them more, like do they have a place to stay? When was the last time they ate? You can't though, because they've already changed the topic.

"I'm their cousin," they answer.

"I didn't know Frisk had a cousin." 

"Well, they do," the kid huffs. They must notice the look you're giving them because when you open your mouth, they interrupt you with, "Don't. I don't wanna talk about it."

They're moving their fork around in their bowl. It's empty, you can see it from where you're sitting, so even though they don't look like it, you can tell they're nervous. You don't want to make them anymore uncomfortable so, instead, you try asking them something else. "What's with the hat?"

"I use magic. So I wear the hat," they answer. "You want me to wash this?" They lift up their bowl.

"Nah, I'll do it." It feels weird to be acting so casual after what you just found out about them. You take their bowl and go towards the sink. The kid's following you. Something is suddenly bothering you. Thankfully, it isn't all that bad of a thing to ask about.

"Wait, I thought only monsters could use magic? You know, 'cause all the genes of it in humans died out?"

They stay quiet for a bit. "I learned it from a monster."

That surprises you. "Really? Who taught you?" 

"My mom," they say. The child reaches over and turns the sink on for you. You wonder what bothered them about said mother, or even made them run away in the first place.

As you run the bowl under the water, the kid speaks up again. "I know what you're thinking, and the answer is no, I can't teach you."

"Actually, I wasn't thinking that at all, but nice to know." You drop the bowl into the sink, deciding you'd rather finish it later. You shut off the water. 

They shrug. "I haven't learned mindreading yet."

For the second time, you tilt your head. "You can learn that?"

"No," they say flatly. They move their hand over their mouth, hiding a smirk. You smile back at them. _Sweet, this is good. They're relaxing. I don't have to worry about them running off again._

Right as you think that, however, the child glances at your front door. "Well, I should get going."

"What, no!" You gently grab their arm. After all you just heard? Fuck no! "You said you were a runaway, didn't you? I can't just let you go back there. You didn't even have food."

They look up at you. "Are you asking me to stay?"

"Absolutely."

They look away. "And you promise you won't turn me in?"

You nod.

"Okay then. I don't really have anywhere else to go, so..."

You release your grip on their arm. 

You sigh, relieved, then remember that you barely have any furniture. "Okay, uh..." You look over at your futon. "You know what? You can take my bed. The couch isn't that bad." It's actually really worn out, but you think this kid probably deserves a break. You won't die sleeping on a terrible futon.

"Can I take a shower first?"

"Of course," you tell them. "Anything in there is all yours."

 

"I've got a question for you," you ask the very next morning when the kid walks into the living room.

"Shoot," the kid says, still clad in the their usual outfit and hat. "Wait, not literally."

"Oh, shit." _You forgot to give them clothes!_

"What?"

"Do you want some of my clothes?" you ask sheepishly.

They wave their hand at you. "It's okay. I cleaned them off in the shower. What were you going to ask?"

You bite your lip. You're going to have to remember to give some of yours to them later. "You've heard of stranger danger, haven't you? Why did you just come home with some rando?"

"Because I was hungry and you couldn't hurt me if you tried, probably," the kid says matter-of-factly. "Also, I thought you knew me. I was gonna eat and run. Speaking of, I'm hungry."

 _Wow. They don't waste time, do they?_ Still, you get up and head for your kitchen. The kid follows you, as always.

"So, what's your name?" You ask, rummaging through your counters for something you think should be good enough for a preteen to eat.

"I thought you only had one question for me."

"Well, here's another."

"Um," you hear them say behind you. They don't answer for a while. You're starting to notice that they do that a lot when you start to ask them anything personal.

You stop rummaging and turn around to look at them. "You don't wanna tell me?"

"No," they quickly say, shaking their head. "It's not that, it's just-" They look frustrated. "I don't know if I should."

"Oh." There's an awkward pause. You return to searching through your counter. You finally settle on some spaghettios you found in the back. You don't know why you still have the stuff.

Neither of you talk for a while. Not until after the kid eats the spaghettios you'd finished cooking. You spend your time next to them on the futon, checking your job applications. The kid looks over a few times, but says nothing.

"I should give you a name," you say, closing the laptop.

The kid looks at you. "Why?"

"Well, 'cause you don't wanna tell me," you say, before realizing how rude you sound. "No offense."

"None taken." They straighten their hat.

You think. "Sabrina?"

"Too girly."

You frown. You'd actually thought it fit them well with the whole magic and hat thing. "Moonflower?"

"What?" They furrow their brows at you.

You're running out of ideas. Wait! You still have your college books, right? Maybe something in there will help.

You stand up and run to your room. The books, just where you remembered them being, are under your bed. You usually sold a lot of your things in order to save, but these old things? You just couldn't bring yourself to. Even if you hadn't found a use for them until now. You return to the futon and begin flipping the pages as the kid looks over your shoulder.

Eventually you land on a page. Reading the name, it clicks. Microvenator. Small hunter. The kid is small, so it works. "How about I call you crove?"

"You're naming me after a dinosaur?" They look intruiged.

"Yeah!" You flip the page. "Here's what this thing looks like?"

The kid's face falls. "It looks like a big chicken."

"A carnivorous one."

They shake their head. "No way. I don't wanna be named after a chicken dinosaur."

You sigh and continue looking. You come to an apatosaurus. Deceptive lizard. This kid was pretty good at fooling others, so you thought this one worked too. "Pat?"

"Okay." The kid, now nicknamed Pat, reaches over and turns the page for you. They nod excitedly. "Yeah, this one's much better." 

You close the book. "Okay, Pat. Guess you're gonna be staying with me for a while, huh?" 

Pat looks at you, barely hiding their smirk with their hand. "Yeah, it sounds _really_ forced when you call me that."


	3. The Shopping (And Bonding?) Trip

The next day you find yourself at the front of one of the clothing stores in your city, Pat in tow. Of course, it had to be one of the cheapest one you could find. Which… You did feel a little guilty for, since you were trying to find some clothes for _Pat_ , not you. But, it was _your_ money that you had drawn from your bank account to pay for them with, which you had used as an excuse to justify why you were choosing a donation store of all places to get them clothes at.

Now that you were here, though, you felt a whole lot more bad about doing it. Pat had been living on the streets for who knows how long, in the same outfit, and you’re getting them someone else’s hand-me-downs. And of course, this was only after you’d realized last night that your clothes slid right off their small frame.

When you glance over at Pat, who is currently peering into the store through the front window, you consider voicing your thoughts and apologizing. “Hey,” you start, before they interrupt you.

“I always liked these places. You can find some weird stuff in them if you’re bored,” they say, walking back to your side.

Their answer surprises you, but you continue, “Hey, listen Pat. If you want to get new clothes we can go somewhere else. We don’t have to shop here.” _Sorry_.

They look up at you, adjusting their hat. “Nah, it’s cool. Clothes are clothes. It’s better than nothing.” Pat walks ahead of you, into the store. You take a moment to wait before you follow after them, not sure is they were lying or just trying to be polite. If they were telling the truth though, they were taking this way better than you expected them to.

You quickly catch up to them. You’ve been in here many times before, so you know exactly where to go. You point at the juniors section, but Pat shakes their head and moves towards the children’s instead. You’re admittedly surprised when you realize that not even a size meant for their age will fit them. _Is it really normal for them to be that size?_ You wonder. Maybe Pat has some kind of condition that they aren’t telling you about. Or maybe they just haven’t hit puberty yet.

“What’s the budget again?” Pat asks as you both continue walking.

“80 bucks,” you tell them. You hope it’s enough.

“I won’t spend that much.”

You feel bad again for being such a fucking cheapskate. “You can spend every cent for all I care,” you lie.

 

Ten minutes later, however, you find yourself in yet another dilemma of the day. Pat is wearing robes. There aren’t any robes in the children’s section. Wait. Do any stores actually sell robes in your town?

“Still want to get your stuff here?” you ask sheepishly as they put back yet another shirt.

“Nah. I’m just being picky.” They pull out a color-block shirt and immediately perk up. “Hey. Look at this.”

They hold the shirt up so that you can see it. It’s a standard pastel color-block with a white body. There’s a picture of a cat with its face surrounded by a piece of bread that says, “Pure bread cat.”

Pat pulls the shirt back and you can tell that they’re laughing when you see that their hand is over their mouth.

You don’t like puns, but you still think it’s at least a little funny, albeit only because of the picture. “Nice one.”

“I know,” Pat says, pulling the shirt to their chest and hugging it. The sight draws a small smile out of you.

 

Sometime later, when Pat thinks that they’ve collected a decent amount of clothes, they pull you over to other parts of the store, pointing out all the things that they think are hilarious. You see an assortment of creepy figurines, a literal mask of your state’s governor, and a glass coffee table where the top of it is literally only held together by tape. To be honest, considering how cheap it was you’d probably consider buying it if you only had a little more cash on you.

At the checkout, though, Pat’s mood suddenly changes as the cashier scans their items.

“What’s up?” you ask.

“I forgot. I still need underwear.”

“That’s okay, we can get it from somewhere else.” You add on one further attempt at amending for your cheapness, “Plus we’ve still got 30 bucks left so if you see anything else you like we can get that too.”

“Oh, they don’t sell underwear here?”

Their response surprises an embarrassingly loud laugh out of you. “I hope not!” But, you do look at the cashier to silently ask, _wait, you don’t, right?_ She shakes her head at you and finishes scanning your items.

Pat is in high spirits again as you both are about to leave. Last second though, they pull you with them again.

“Look at that!” they say, pointing at another figure. “What even _is_ that?”

“It’s the white guy from ghostbusters,” you say, the characters’ name a total loss to you.

“Oh, really? I thought it was the guy you see on those Pillsbury commercials.”

You are immediately reminded of a certain monster you’d run into in the theatre the other day. “Yeah,” you respond, distracted. “Hey, Pat?”

“Yeah?” They’re busy messing with the figurine.

“Have you seen any monsters in the city lately?”

They put the toy back on the shelf. “No, why?”

“I saw one that looked a lot like that thing.” You motion towards the figure. “This is a monster-free city so I was wondering if you knew him.”

“No, I don’t.” They think for a moment. “Wait, are monsters banned here?”

“No,” you say. “They just tend to stay away from here.”

They look down. “Does that mean the people here are violent towards them?”

“Um, no? I don’t know?” You really don’t. You’d never even encountered a monster in person up until that point. “I think it’s just that way naturally, I guess. I don’t think anyone would hurt one if they showed up though.”

“I hope so,” Pat says, turning around and heading for the exit. They stop without warning when you try to follow.

“Thank you,” they say, quietly.

You feel… Awkward, but nice. “No problem,” you reply.

 

Your day ends as Pat collects their underwear from a nearby kid’s store. Despite your insistence, they didn’t ask for anything besides the 4 dollar pack they picked up. You spend most of your time at the store and on the way back home thinking about Pillsbury. What the hell was he even doing here? You wish that you had asked him while you were still with him. But, you probably wouldn’t have even if you’d thought of it, because monsters are still creepy as fuck.

The thought of monsters then reminds you of Pat’s parents. Besides Pillsbury, you’ve never run into a monster here. Ever. Which must mean that Pat came from another city, probably far from yours. _But why?_ _Were their parents abusive?_ You steal a glance at Pat, who is walking closely beside you. Your fist clenches. You can’t exactly tell if they have any injuries because of what they’re currently wearing, but that doesn’t put the thought out of your mind. Clearly, if they don’t want you to call CPS, they don’t want to go home.

_Wait. Does this mean they’re going to stay with me forever?_ The thought scares you. But you’ve already figured out that they don’t have anywhere else to go. Little money or not, no job or not, you weren’t going to throw this poor kid back out on the streets. You were cheap, but not heartless.

_I really need to get my shit together._

You’re still, “Getting your shit together” later that night, long after Pat had changed into some of their new clothes and gone to sleep in your bed. Checking on your applications, looking for new places to apply, et cetera.

Of course, very few of these applications were going towards your degree. In fact, your degree was actually something that was holding you back from getting a job in more ways than one. Simple jobs, like fast food or cashiering, were messaging you back to tell you that you were “overqualified” for the job. You were almost certain that people without degrees, not nearly struggling as much as you were were getting picked instead. It was selfish of you to judge them for also needing work, but you couldn’t help it. This was taking too long. You needed to work. Even if it meant not using the degree you’d spent so long working for.

It sucked.

Another hour passes and you end up getting a message at around 11. You open up your Tinder app, deciding to take a break. Maybe someone is just sending you some weird attempt at flirting you can laugh at and screenshot for later. You don’t expect it to be a message back from Connor.

_Hey. Sorry it took me so long to get back to you._

_I had fun, and you seem cool. We should hang out again sometime._

_:)_

You stare down at your phone for a long time.

This guy… Likes you?

Well, shit, that’s not something you were expecting.

_Sure_ , you reply. _When do you want to hang out?_

You wonder how long this is going to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some chapters will honestly be better (and longer!) than others. Sorry if this one was a little boring but it's here for a reason, I swear! I'm too lazy to be putting padding in my internet fanfiction.


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